


just give me all of you (in exchange for me)

by soft_knight



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, G!P, Girl Penis, lexa has a dick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-27 19:08:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6296464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soft_knight/pseuds/soft_knight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So.” Anya began. “You’re telling me you met this girl at the gala, invited her to one of your studios, gave her that very studio as a gift and then had sex with her on the roof of the building?”<br/>Lexa sighed. “Yes.”<br/>“Have you heard of 'flowers', little sister?” Anya asked. “I heard normal people give flowers as a first date gift, instead of, you know, an entire studio apartment. I also heard it's just as successful and does not cost four-thousand dollars."<br/>"I can find a flower arrangement that costs four-thousand dollars."<br/>"That was not a challenge, Lexa."</p>
            </blockquote>





	just give me all of you (in exchange for me)

“You ready, stud?”

“Stop calling me that.”

Anya smirked. “I think it’s rather funny.”

“Of course you do.” Lexa said, shrugging her blazer straight on her shoulders. “You think anything that embarrasses me is funny.”

“Not entirely true.” Anya hummed, noncommittally. “I’m a fan of cat videos on the internet.”

Lexa had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “You’re making it difficult for me to pretend to be happy to be here.”

They stood just outside the limo they arrived in, mostly surveying the other attendees walking into the gala. Anya prided herself on being on time, which Lexa hated. She didn’t want to be there any longer than she had to. Lexa usually arrived as the gala was ending, just to show face and support. She hated staying for more than an hour or two.

But Anya had asked her to be her date, and Lexa could hardly refuse family. 

People would occasionally, purposefully, walk in front of them, practically gawking at Anya. She was wearing a tight-fitted black dress, with black three-inch heels. She had taken nearly four hours to get ready, most of which Lexa spent checking her e-mail on her phone. 

Lexa was wearing what she usually did to these events; a white button up, black slacks, black shoes and a black blazer she draped over her shoulders, casually, not wearing the sleeves.

Anya sighed, suddenly. “Nobody interesting.” She said.

“What else did you expect?”

“Last time someone snuck into the event, don’t you remember? That was definitely interesting. He was a clown.”

“Literally? Like his profession?”

Anya nodded, solemnly.

Lexa looked at her. “Didn’t you take him home?”

“That’s none of your business, little sister.”

“You slept with a clown.”

“Speaking of clowns, there’s Raven.” Anya said, pointing to their right.

True enough, there Raven stood. She was smiling, having seemingly said something funny which caused the small crowd of people around her to be near tears with laughter. Raven spotted them then, with a wave, and quickly excused herself. She half-jogged to them, and gave Anya a kiss on the cheek as a greeting.

“You look phenomenal.” Raven said, her eyes raking over Anya from head to toe.

“You clean up pretty well yourself.”  Anya said.

Raven turned her attention to Lexa. “And you, _stud_ -”

“Not you too.”

“What?” Raven laughed. “It’s funny.”

“That’s what I keep saying.” Anya added.

Lexa didn’t bother responding but Raven must have seen the look on her face.

“You should own it.” Raven said, with a playful wink. “I mean, they’re not _wrong_ , are they?”

“I usually don’t concern myself with how wrong or right tabloid magazines are.” Lexa said. “This one in particular is getting out of hand, however.”

“It can’t be _that_ bad.” Raven said, putting a comforting hand on Lexa’s shoulder. "It's a compliment."

Lexa looked at her. “People on twitter call me ‘daddy’ now.”

Raven bit her bottom lip, clearly holding in laughter. Anya didn’t hold back, though, throwing her head back and cackling louder than Lexa could ever remember her laughing.

“You’re both terrible people.”

“This is so funny.” Anya said, still laughing. “You have to see how funny this is, little sister.”

“I need twelve drinks.” Lexa said, walking down the carpet. “Maybe more. Definitely more.”

“I can’t wait to check the replies on your tweets now.” Raven said, following her. “It’s probably a goldmine.”

“ _Please_ screencap and send me the good ones.” Anya said, not too far behind the both of them.

 

* * *

 

As usual, both Raven and Anya were nowhere to be found within twenty minutes of entering the building. Lexa spent nearly every event casually drinking and accepting any finger food that was offered to her. Occasionally, someone would come up and talk to her. Always about something boring- either her own work or theirs. As if she didn’t spend nearly every waking moment either thinking or speaking about work. She could actually be home. Working. Instead of just talking about it with some stranger she would most likely never see again.

The wine was terrible. Lexa didn’t particularly mind, though it was the only thing she had been looking forward to in the first place. But she also understood planning for galas usually had the hosts spending the least amount of money on catering as to not seem disingenuous to the charity. Which was fine. She could open her own bottle at home later that night.

That was something to look forward to.

“I hate coming to these things.”

Lexa hadn’t realized she wasn’t standing alone until then. Turning her head to see who had spoken, she was met, first, with extremely clear blue eyes. The blonde woman was only slightly shorter than herself, Lexa guessed, as she was wearing heels which caused them to be just at eye-level with each other. As Lexa’s eyes followed up from her heels, she noticed the blonde’s extremely low cut dress and how it revealed a lot of her… well-sized chest.

Lexa realized she had been staring. She immediately snapped her head back to look at the crowd of people mingling and walking around the gala floor. She was determined not to look back at the blonde. That was certainly rude of her, and she usually had way more self-restraint than she had just displayed.

“Uh, me too.” Lexa said, simply, taking another sip of the bad wine.

“Don’t get me wrong, getting dressed up, the free food and drinks- plus the fact that it’s for a good cause; all of those things are fine.” The blonde said. Lexa noticed she had a huskiness to her voice that Lexa couldn’t deny that she quite… enjoyed.

“But all the ass-kissing, bragging about how big your pool is, how much that vacation home in the poconos costs…” She said, sounding annoyed.

“Unfortunately comes with the territory.” Lexa said. “A lot of these people are not giving money out of the kindness of their hearts but just so they can point to themselves and force everyone to look at how ‘good’ of a person they are.”

“You sound experienced.”

“I may be.” Lexa said. “Is this your first time?”

“Mmm, no.”

Lexa thought she heard a hint of playfulness in that response, which all but forced her to look at the blonde again.

“I’m Clarke.” She said.

“Lexa.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow at the mention of her name, but it lowered just the same.

Lexa looked back at the crowd. It appeared as if more people had arrived, the floor almost filling now. People loved to be fashionably late, after all.

“Are you here with anyone?” Lexa asked.

“A friend.” Clarke said. “She’s lost in the crowd somewhere probably. You?”

“My sister.” Lexa said. “Also lost in the crowd.”

“So, you come to a lot of these things, then?”

“More than I would like.” Lexa said, honestly.

“You know,” Clarke stepped in front of her, blocking her view. “I think I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

“Not outside the realm of possibility.” She replied, smoothly.

“Oh?” Clarke asked. “A billboard or something?”

“I have, indeed, been on a billboard.” Lexa said. “A few magazines, six television appearances, including an ongoing one on a reality show currently airing, and I was in a semi-successful band when I was a teenager.”

Clarke blinked, rapidly. “Wow. A band? Really?”

Lexa nodded once.

“What band?”

“An indie band; The Grounders.”

“Oh! Yeah, I remember! You played the drums, didn’t you?”

“For a while. Our bass player left, and I took over as bassist so we had to get someone else on drums. That was towards the end of our career though.”

Clarke was the one staring now. Lexa simply let her.

“You look really different.”

“Good different, I hope?”

“Yes, definitely.” Clarke said almost immediately. “Not to say you were unattractive before-” She added quickly. “I mean, you were, obviously, definitely attractive- it’s a different type of attractive now is what I’m trying to say-”

Lexa only continued to hold her stare.

“Uh, anyways," Clarke looked away, momentarily. "You guys were really good, why’d you stop being a band?”

“We grew up.”

“Right. That always sucks.” Clarke said, with a small smile, looking back at her. “You mentioned something about a reality show?”

“My sister, Anya-”

“Wait- _the_ Anya-- like Anya from _‘Love & Anya’ _?”

“The very same.”

“Wow. Wow.” Clarke said, again, the word only seeming more genuine as she said it. “My friend is obsessed with her.”

Lexa could only nod. She knew Anya’s show was incredibly popular and Anya had filed several restraining orders against rabid fans. It never seemed to bother Anya, however. She was always willing to stop whatever she was doing for a photo and an autograph.

“What about you, Clarke?” Lexa asked, eager to change the subject and slightly curious about Clarke herself.

“Me? Oh, nothing nearly as cool. I just finished college-- actually, fuck that, I dropped out. I totally dropped out. No use in lying about it.” Clarke said. “I couldn’t really handle it. My mom wanted me to be a doctor like her but it just wasn’t doing it for me. I _do_ like helping people, I _really_ do, but.... I don’t know. It just didn’t feel right. It felt like I was doing what I was _supposed_ to be doing and not what I _wanted_ to do.”

“What do you want to do?”

Clarke looked surprised at the question. “Honestly?” She sighed. “I don’t know. I know what I like- painting, drawing-” Clarke’s face lit up. “I’ve made a few sculptures too. Everyone keeps saying that’s not something I could make a ‘stable living’ off of, though.”

“I would not worry.” Lexa said. “It may be harder for some to reach their goals but it will come. With work and time.”

“I hope so.” Clarke said. “Thanks.” She smiled. “You’re really easy to talk to, did you know that?”

“It could be because I’m drunk.”

That made Clarke laugh, and Lexa found that she was fond of the sound.

“My friend invited me here to lift my spirits a bit since I’ve been so stressed about everything.”

“Was it successful?”

Clarke gave a smile that made Lexa’s stomach flip. “After talking to you, I’d say it was.”

Lexa felt her phone vibrate, and for once, considered letting it go to voicemail. She reached into her pocket to glance at it; _Anya calling…_

“Excuse me for a moment, Clarke.” Lexa turned, pulling the phone up to her ear. “What?”

“Hello to you too, little sister.” Anya said. Lexa could hear loud, bass thumping music in the background.

“Where are you?”

“Gala after party.”

“Gala after _what_ \- are you _serious_?”

“When am I not.” Anya said. “Don’t strain anything, it’s not very far. When I left, I saw you talking to that blonde with the breasts.”

Lexa glanced back at Clarke, who gave her a small wave.

“I’ve got a bet going with Raven that you’re still doing just that. Are you still doing just that?”

Lexa turned back around. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” She practically snarled.

“I see.” Anya said, completely unfazed. “Raven is short five-grand now, it seems.”

“Five-grand? You’re both ridiculous, you know that? Not only do you leave me at a party I didn’t want to attend in the first place, but you make bets based off of my personality like it’s some sort of game.”

“You should be scolding Raven, not me. She underestimated your love of breasts. I would never do that to you.”

“Anya, shut up.”

“Very well. I’ll text you the address of the club if you want to stop by. Bring your new friend if you want. Toodles.”

Lexa lowered the phone to her side. It vibrated again indicating the text Anya promised she would send.

Lexa, at the very least, could leave the gala now. If anything good came of this, it was that.

She swiped again, reading the address quickly. The club was only a block away.

She turned, downing the rest of the wine in her glass in one gulp and placed the glass down on the table beside Clarke.

“My apologies.” Lexa said.

“Was that important?”

“Not really.” Lexa dismissed. She knew she didn’t want to go to some other party. She wanted to go home and she had wanted to go home since the night began.

But now, there was Clarke and she didn’t exactly want to leave and never see Clarke again...

“Do you have a studio, Clarke? For your art.”

“A studio? No- no way, I could never afford one.” She ran a nervous hand through her hair, parting it to the side. “I can barely afford my own apartment. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a studio in person before…”

“Would you like to see one?”

Clarke only went wide-eyed.

“There’s one I own on this side of the city.” Lexa said. “Just a short drive from here.”

“You…” Clarke seemed skeptical. “You’re serious?”

“Naturally.” Lexa said. “I would understand if you refuse, however. It must seem-”

“I wouldn’t even _dream_ of refusing.” Clarke interrupted. “I’d love to see your studio.”

 

* * *

 

Clarke had mentioned, several times on the ride there, that it was the first time she’d ever rode in a limousine. She spent most of the ride with the window rolled down, staring out at all the people staring at her. Gustus, the family driver, would occasionally look in the rear-view mirror and give Lexa a knowing smile.

Lexa simply rested the side of her face on her hand, leaning against her side-door, looking out her closed window and listening to Clarke talk about everything from her friends to the last art piece she managed to sell to a small gallery in Brooklyn.

When they finally reached the building, Lexa exited the limo the moment it stopped at the curb. She quickly rounded the car, opening Clarke’s door and extended her hand to help Clarke out.  Clarke smiled, clearly flattered, and accepted. She straightened out her dress as she stood and walked to the entrance.

“You can bring my car around.” Lexa said to Gustus, handing him the keys through the window. “And you can head home afterwards. Say hi to the fiance for me.”

It was nearing midnight and Gustus had his own family- she tried not to let her staff work too late unless there was no other choice, and she knew they appreciated that, at the very least.

He simply nodded, curtly. “Am I picking you up tomorrow?"

"No, don't worry about it. I have it covered."

"Have a good night, then.”

“You too, Gus.”

She watched him pull off the curb and drive off down the street. When he was completely gone from view, Lexa turned and walked to where Clarke stood.

“Ready?”

Clarke nodded, still smiling. "This neighborhood is nice. I don't think I've ever been."

"There's a cafe just down the block that has really good breakfast." Lexa said, turning the key. "I think you would like it."

 

* * *

 

 

Lexa watched Clarke, and how her eyes would jump from one thing in the studio to the next. Lexa had only bought these spaces to convert them into apartments but this studio’s previous owner hadn’t taken down the walls nor any of the art supplies and easels. He left everything he owned including a small photoshoot area with lights and photography equipment in the corner of the room. Lexa didn’t find the time to have everything moved and redone just yet.

And she found that a part of her was glad she hadn’t when she saw Clarke’s reaction.

“This is incredible.” Clarke said. She had removed her heels at the door, and was walking barefoot against the wooden floor. Most of it, still covered in dried paint. Lexa removed her own shoes, knowing her socks would likely be dirtied but not overly concerned with that fact.

Clarke walked over to one of the easels and picked up a tube of paint.

“Gouache.” She said. “This stuff is _so_ expensive but _so_ good.”

Lexa stood next to the photography area, eyes hovering back and forth between Clarke picking up something new to the pile of photographs on the floor.

When Clarke began sifting through a box of completed canvases, Lexa gave in and walked over to the photographs. It had a protective cover over the first, and once she slipped it off she was just bombarded with picture after picture of nude portraits. All of them women.

“Those paintings…” Lexa called out to Clarke. “Are they just of women, by any chance? Particularly naked women?”

“The most certainly are.” Clarke said, almost sounding amused. “Why?”

“Seems the artist that lived here had a very specific muse.”

She heard Clarke’s footsteps before she felt Clarke standing beside her.

“Really specific.” Clarke said, kneeling next to her. “I’ve painted a few naked people. It’s not that fun.”

Lexa nodded. “Having nude models in photoshoots isn’t fun either.”

“You’re a photographer?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” Lexa put the photographs down. “For a time, I dabbled in photography. It wasn’t for me.”

“Like playing music wasn’t for you?”

“Right.”

“So, what _is_ for you?”

“Ah, well, that’s a bit of a complicated question.”

“If you can play instruments, take photographs, be a guest star on a reality TV show and none of these things are ‘for you’- you can’t exactly blame me for wondering what is.”

Lexa canted her head, slightly. Clarke seemed to be… teasing her? Or was she just imagining that?

“I enjoy playing music, just as I enjoy taking photographs.” Lexa said. “It was just not something I could build a life from.”

Clarke looked away, past her. “Like painting.”

“No.” Lexa immediately said. “It was not something _I_ could build a life out of- there are many who have and many who will. It just was not for me.”

Clarke seemed contemplative before looking back at her. “So these are just your hobbies?”

“Precisely.”

“What other hobbies do you have?”

“I exercise regularly. Yoga and kickboxing classes. Polo on the weekends.”

“Polo?” Clarke smiled at that. “Polo. Huh.”

Before Lexa could ask, Clarke was up and touching the camera stationed there. She pressed a few buttons, and looked into the viewfinder.

Lexa stood up, standing next to her, hands clasped behind her back. After a minute or two of Clarke twisting knobs and pressing buttons she looked up at Lexa.

“I have no idea how this thing works.”

“It’s quite simple. First, you turn it on.” Lexa switched the on button on the side of the camera.

“Ha, very funny.” Clarke rolled her eyes.

“This is the shutter. Look through here, hold the button down slightly for it to focus and when it does, press the button down all the way.”

Clarke waved Lexa behind the camera. “I need a model.” She said. “Obviously.”

Yes, obviously, Lexa nodded. She walked to the stool that was used for the shoot. She sat atop it, arms crossed against her chest.

Clarke bent slightly to look through the viewfinder, briefly, before she looked up and beyond the camera as her finger hovered on the button. She pressed down with a _click_ , and the lens shuttered. Lexa stood to move, but Clarke held her hand out.

“Wait,” She said. “Let me get a few more.”

She heard the click a few more times, and saw Clarke remove the camera from the tripod as she stared intensely at it. Lexa took the opportunity to finally stand and walk over to her.

“Not bad.” She said, looking over her shoulder.

Clarke’s head snapped up. “Yeah. Not bad.” She said, looking at her. “My turn.” She shoved the camera at Lexa.

Lexa took it, only slightly confused but decided to play along regardless. She brought the camera up to her face and took a few steps closer to Clarke.

“Did you shoot for a magazine or something?” Clarke asked.

“For a short time, yes.” Lexa said. “Relax. You’re tense.”

“I’m not tense.”

“You are.” Lexa said, walking to her. She put a hand on her shoulder, gently pushing down. “Your shoulders are stiff.”

Clarke let herself be guided, taking a deep breath.

“There.” Lexa said, backing up and bringing the camera up to look through it. She took a few shots. Clarke was a very easy model to find beauty in, Lexa learned. Every angle she tried, every photograph she took was perfect.

“And the nude shoots?”

“Not for a magazine.”

“Personal?”

“I wouldn’t exactly say that.” Lexa said. “Lean back, slightly.”

“Like this?”

“Just like that.”

Lexa found herself staring at Clarke’s chest again, but didn’t linger too long, bringing the camera to look up at her face. With Clarke's eyes staring directly at her, and her lips slightly parted, Lexa wasn’t entirely sure if this was a better or worse visual for the arousal currently building in her stomach.

“If it wasn’t personal…. then?”

“More of a challenge, I suppose." Lexa explained. "I did a few shoots and it was easy. Ended up making a lot of money for those photos- even more so than the magazine ever paid me.”

“You were good at it.”

“I suppose I was.”

Lexa was about to turn the camera to the side when she finally noticed it had a wire plugged into it. She followed it with her eyes to see it lead into a black box perched atop a wooden makeshift table.

“What is it?” Clarke asked.

Lexa opened the box and it revealed a projector. She switched it on, and the wall projected everything the camera could see.

“Well, that’s interesting.” Clarke said, looking up at the wall. “I mean, I don’t want to judge or anything but I think the previous owner of this studio was a huge pervert. I say that non-judgmentally. As non-judgmentally as I can, of course.”

“Of course.” Lexa repeated.

“It is kind of hot, though.”

Lexa looked at her.

“What?” She shrugged. “Imagine having sex with someone and having it be projected right behind you. It’s like a mirror but better.”

Lexa could only stare for what seemed like an impolite amount of time before she turned back to look at the wall.

“How do you like it?” Lexa asked.

“What?”

“The studio.” Lexa said.

“ _Like_ it?” Clarke practically scoffed. “I _love_ it. If I had a space like this, none of my friends would see me for weeks.”

“I would not encourage isolation from your loved ones,” Lexa began. “But if you want it, it’s yours.”

“You-” Clarke pointed but her hand dropped. “Wait, what?”

Lexa walked over to the door, slipping her oxfords back on. “It’s yours.”

“The studio?”

“Yes.”

“You’re- is this- what are-” Clarke was stuttering. “Is this a joke?”

“I know we’ve just met, Clarke.” Lexa said. “But have you heard me crack a single joke tonight? I do not joke.”

“Why would you- exactly, we just met- how could- but- I don’t understand-”

“You’re clearly passionate about your work. Everyone deserves to have the means to pursue their passion. I appreciate your vision.”

Clarke looked lost, momentarily, before her brows furrowed. She clenched her fists and stormed up to Lexa which caused Lexa to take a step backwards.

Clarke grabbed Lexa’s collar and pulled down, Clarke’s lips meeting Lexa’s own, roughly. Lexa kissed back, causing Clarke’s grip to loosen. Her hands flattened against Lexa's collarbone, and Lexa brought her hands to rest at Clarke’s hips, squeezing at the flesh there. Clarke moaned into her mouth, and Lexa used that as permission to slide her hands around her back and lower until she reached her ass. She pulled Clarke up and into her, deepening the kiss.

Clarke suddenly pulled away and it was over faster than Lexa wanted. Clarke was slightly out of breath, her lips swollen and her eyes glossy with lust. Lexa was sure she must have looked the same.

“There’s a roof.” Lexa said, realizing how hard she was breathing when she spoke.

“What?”

“You’ll own access to the roof, too.” She said. “This studio is the only apartment with access to the roof.”

Clarke nodded, once, unsure. Then again, more assuredly. “Show me.”

 

* * *

 

 

The roof had one of the best views Clarke had seen in her entire life. She could actually see stars in the sky, and the moon was clear. She could see the glow of other buildings and she could hear the city noises down below.  

It also had a futon. Which had blankets and pillows that Clarke was pressed up against as Lexa pressed up against her.

They had been kissing, and grinding against each other, desperate for whatever contact they could get for what seemed like an eternity.

Lexa pushed herself up and off of Clarke. “Do you- should we stop?”

“I don’t want to stop.” Clarke said, unbuttoning Lexa’s shirt. “Do you?”

“No.” Lexa said, bending down to kiss Clarke’s neck. She hiked Clarke’s dress up higher, trying to rut into her center and finally succeeding when she gets the dress high enough. Clarke moaned into Lexa’s ear, which was all the encouragement she needed as she brought her hand to slip into Clarke’s lacy underwear. She cupped her sex, momentarily, before smoothly sliding her finger in between her folds. Clarke moaned, louder this time, getting the attention she had been seeking with every spur of her hips.

“What do you want, Clarke?”

“Y-you.”

“Where?”

“God, _everywhere_. Please.”

Lexa felt her phone vibrate. She knew Clarke felt it too, if the look she gave her was any indication. Lexa, through the sheer power of her will, no doubt, managed to pull herself away from Clarke as she sat up. She didn’t remove her hand from Clarke’s wet center, but instead only used her free hand to check the call; _Anya calling…_

Lexa put the phone down. Not important. Not important enough to stop. Lexa continued rubbing her fingers between the folds of Clarke’s pussy, using her other hand to pull her underwear down to get a better view. Lexa was painfully hard, but seeing exactly how wet Clarke was for her, how she was writhing underneath her, moaning; Lexa felt herself grow impossibly harder.

The phone began buzzing again, and Lexa, eager to distract herself from it, bent down to kiss Clarke’s sex. She flattened her tongue against Clarke’s center, while Clarke buried her fingers in Lexa’s hair, pushing her closer. It didn’t take much of Lexa’s tongue moving against and into Clarke before Clarke was bucking up against her mouth, and her thighs were clasped on the sides of her head. She came, hard, Lexa lapping up as much as she could, not wanting to stop pleasing her, not wanting to stop-

“ _Fuck_ , I- ah, _Lexa_!”

Clarke came again. Lexa slowed her the circling of her tongue, trying to taste as much of Clarke before she pulled away.

“Oh god…” Clarke breathed. Lexa pushed herself up, trailing kisses onto Clarke’s stomach, between her breasts, her neck, under her chin and landing on her lips.

Clarke moved her lips slowly against Lexa, as she moved her hands to hold Lexa’s face. The kiss was the most tender they had shared, Clarke making small noises that Lexa wouldn’t mind being the cause of for the rest of her life.

Lexa could feel her phone buzz against her hand. Lexa actively ignored it, still kissing Clarke. Realizing she wanted to kiss Clarke forever.

“Maybe… ah…” Clarke was breathing hard against her. “Maybe you should pick that up? It could be important.”

Lexa kissed her once more before she sat up. In one motion she picked up the phone.

“Are you dying?” Lexa asked. “You better be dying.”

She saw Clarke smirk, as she began to play with the hem of Lexa’s shirt.

“I could ask your ass the same ass thing.” Anya slurred. “You having sex with the blonde with the boobs yet, little sister?”

Clarke undid Lexa’s belt, pulling her shirt up and out of her pants.

“Are you dying, yes or no?”

“Uhhhhhhh….” Anya paused. All Lexa could hear then was the terrible techno music that was playing at the club.

Clarke popped her pants button, and pulled the zipper down, pulling her pants slightly down with it. Clarke sat up, now achingly close to Lexa’s member. She felt herself twitch at the thought of Clarke touching her, seeing her. She wanted so badly to be buried deep inside Clarke.

“No.” Anya said, as if she had just checked. “No, I don’t think I am, currently, at the moment. Currently not dying. Can confirm.”

“Me neither. Goodnight.  Don’t call me again.” Lexa tapped her phone screen and threw it behind her.

“You’re so hard for me.” Clarke whispered, tugging at Lexa’s boxer-briefs. Lexa stilled her hands, instead, laying her back down on the futon. She moved to completely remove Clarke’s underwear, as Clarke pulled her dress up and over herself. Lexa nearly froze when she saw that Clarke hadn’t been wearing a bra.

“You’re so beautiful.” Lexa said.

 _That_ out of everything they had said or done to each other made Clarke blush. Lexa made a mental note of that, as she slid both her briefs and pants down past her thighs. Clarke’s eyes were locked on Lexa’s member. She went to reach for it, but Lexa swiftly grabbed her hand, then the other, and pinned them both above her head.

“They stay there.” Lexa said, sitting up again. “Or I stop. Understood?”

Clarke only nodded, eagerly.

“Good girl.” Lexa positioned herself between Clarke’s legs, having her bend at the knees over her shoulders. She guided her cock in between Clarke’s wet, slick heat. It took nearly all of her willpower not to bury her entire length into Clarke with one thrust. Instead, she slowly entered her, Clarke moaning with every inch she managed to take.

“More, _please- please_.”

Lexa listened, going deeper, looking down between them- the sight of her cock disappearing into Clarke was nearly too much; she held back a moan, instead exhaling before pulling out again.

Lexa found a steady rhythm, rolling her hips into Clarke, burying herself fully into Clarke. She couldn’t think about anything other than Clarke. Clarke was the only thing that mattered now. The sounds she was making, the way she felt; Lexa could think only of Clarke.

Lexa glanced up at her. Clarke hadn’t broken eye contact, arms still pinned above her, her breasts bouncing with each thrust.

Lexa couldn't help but lean forward, planting small kisses just below Clarke's ear. Lexa reached up to her hands, bringing them down to wrap around her own neck. She moved, resting her forehead against Clarke's and was met with now barely blue eyes staring into her own.

Lexa kissed her, slowly and tentatively then, just as she slowed her thrusts. “You can touch me.” Lexa said against her lips. “You’ve been a good girl.”

Clarke dug her nails into the back of Lexa’s neck, raking them down her still clothed back. Lexa suddenly regretted not taking her shirt off.

Clarke raised her hips, seemingly trying to meet Lexa’s thrusts with her own. Clarke was writhing, moving beneath her. Lexa pressed her body against her, burying her face into Clarke’s shoulder, trying to still her.

“Shhh.” Lexa whispered into her ear. “What do you want? Tell me, babygirl.”

Clarke let out a loud moan, wrapping her legs around Lexa. “I want you- more- deep-”

“You want me deeper?”

“Yes, Lexa, _please,_ deeper-”

Lexa sped her movements, angling herself so her cock could settle deep and hard into Clarke with every thrust. Lexa felt Clarke’s walls flutter and tighten around her dick. Lexa pumped faster and faster, knowing Clarke was close. She wanted Clarke to cum around her cock, _because_ of her cock- 

“ _L-Lexa_!”

Clarke shook as she came, her legs still wrapped around Lexa and holding her close. Lexa continued to thrust into Clarke, feeling her walls contract around her. It was nearly too much. Lexa's movements becoming harsher with each thrust.

“Ah, Clarke- _fuck_ -”

With one more jerk of her hips, Lexa felt herself let go. Her hips rolled, sporadically, each push spurting a new wave of Lexa's release into Clarke. Clarke clenched herself around her length, milking her for every drop- Lexa kept moving against her, not wanting to stop, not _ever_ wanting to stop.

" _Fuck._.." Lexa said again, under her breath. "Fuck. Clarke."

Her movements grew sluggish. Clarke was touching her everywhere; her neck, under her shirt on the sides of her abdomen, her back. Lexa, completely tiring herself out, eventually slowed to a stop. She lazily pressed her nose against the crook of Clarke's neck, breathing deep.

Clarke honest-to-god- _giggled_ and Lexa found herself smiling for the first time in a long time. Lexa closed her eyes at the sound of their collective breathing.

"Are you about to fall asleep on top of me?"

"Mmmm."

Clarke ran her hands up and down Lexa's arms, soothingly, her own eyes heavy with sleep. "You know..." She said. "We should talk about this studio thing- I appreciate the offer but I wouldn't feel right about just taking it....."

Silence.

"Lexa?"

"Mm."

"So? Can I pay half the rent or- there must be something we can work out-"

"Tomorrow, Clarke." Lexa murmured against her shoulder. "Sleep now."

 

* * *

 

Clarke rolled over to her side, hands reaching to the other side of her bed. She opened one eye to see her clothes folded neatly beside her. It was extremely bright- was the window open? Why was it so cold?

She sat up, rubbing her eyes. She felt the thin blanket as it slid off her skin. The open sky above her was clear and blue. She was on a roof. Wait.

The gala, the studio, the roof; Lexa.

She looked back to the empty spot beside her. She saw a note atop her clothes, with only one word written on it’s surface, in neat cursive: _Clarke._

Clarke picked the note up, pulling the blanket to cover herself. She flipped it over:

_Sorry. Had to run. Follow the arrows for a surprise._

__-Lexa_ _

Clarke looked to her other side, and sure enough a post it note was stuck to the wall, an arrow drawn on top and pointing to the door back to the studio. Clarke stood and quickly dressed, an uncomfortable chill running down her spine. She would need thicker blankets, that was for sure. She made her way over to the door, mostly wanting to get inside for warmth, though, admittedly, slightly curious about wherever these arrows led.

 

* * *

 

The post-its lined down the stairs into the hallway and back into the art studio. From the doorway, they lined across the floor to the middle of the room where the stool for the photoshoot now stood. Atop it was a big brown paper bag, with another note attached to it. Clarke pulled the note from it, folding it open.

_Breakfast. Wasn’t sure what you would like so I got three different things. Hopefully one of them is fine. Also left cab money for your ride home._

_Hope I see you again sometime._

This one wasn’t signed, Clarke realized as she flipped it over. She let the note fall to the floor, and reached in the bag. She pulled out two wrapped- somethings? A sandwich? A bagel? She didn’t know. The last thing was inside a plastic container and she could see it was some kind of salad. She placed all of them on one of the boxes that had a bunch of paintings in them. She turned the bag over and a $100 bill fell out along with another slip of paper.

_My number, if you want it._

_347-553-xxxx_

Clarke smiled. She then realized she didn’t have her phone- hadn’t had her phone at all last night. _Shit_ , Clarke thought.

Octavia must think something terrible happened to her. Clarke then wondered if Octavia got home okay herself, or if she even went home at all.

One thing was guaranteed, Clarke knew; Octavia would be _pissed_.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for any mistakes, this is the first fic i've ever written.  
> i'm learnin fam


End file.
